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by BuildingGsr



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:00:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26577955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuildingGsr/pseuds/BuildingGsr
Summary: Grissom and his always strange proposalsSeason/Episode: somewhere in season 7
Relationships: Gil Grissom/Sara Sidle
Kudos: 10





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**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I wrote after Danielle’s challenge on CSI: Crime Scene Investigation Fan Fiction FB group: insert the line “He smiled in that charming way he had when he knew he had said something clever.” in a one shot fic of maximum 2,000 words.
> 
> Orignally posted on [my blog](http://buildinggsr.altervista.org/home-casa/?doing_wp_cron=1600679394.8570659160614013671875): January 4, 2018  
>  Last editing: September 21, 2020

_Grissom and Sara at the lab are analyzing some documents related to a victim: Grissom at the head of the table, Sara on the long side, next to him._

"It figures why this guy was killed..." Sara commented. "He reminds me of my landlord: he seems gentle, but deep down, he's diabolic."

"Diabolic?" Grissom asked, amused. "What does he do?"

“He's ugly, just to pick one,” Sara answered, looking up from the document she was holding to stare into space with a disgusted expression.

Before replying anything, Grissom glanced around.

“This works in my favor...” he commented. He lowered his look on the papers and added, “He can't be called diabolic because of that, though.”

“Oh, you wouldn't say that if you’d met him.”

A thought came suddenly to Grissom.

“That's true, I've never met him…” he noted.

“Oh, you would like him: he always talks in riddles, he says he'll do things he never actually does whereas he does things he never told you he would do - like raise the rent without warning."

"Oh, he raised the rent?"

"Last month, yes."

Grissom felt a bit offended.

"You didn't tell me..."

"I didn't?” Sara asked surprised. She shrugged, “Well, it's not that important."

"Do you manage to bear all the costs?"

"Does anyone?" Sara joked to herself.

Grissom became uneasy and stopped working.

"Do you need some help?"

Sara turned a loving look on him.

"Thanks. I can make it, don't worry," she gently said, keeping her sight in her mate's eyes a bit longer.

He nodded sharp-looking and kept staring at Sara even after her eyes had come back to the documents. In that moment he had an idea.

"You could stop paying the rent," he stated.

He smiled in that charming way he had when he knew he had said something clever. But Sara’s head was bowed so she couldn't see that charming smile and, most importantly, she didn't get the deep meaning of what he had just uttered.

"Yeah, _viva la revolution_!" she commented instead, with a chuckle.

When she raised her eyes, however, she noticed that Grissom's look was a bit too dull and she found his eyes hesitant.

"What's going on?" she asked perplexed.

Grissom slightly raised his chin and looked away, as if he was trying to spring up and say something profound.

In that moment Warrick entered the room.

"Hey Grissom. Hodges identified the -

Upon walking in, the big guy also noticed the dazed, pensive look on his supervisor's face.

"What's going on?" he asked Sara.

She shrugged. "I just said _viva la revolution_ ," was all she could say.

"He doesn't like _mariachis_?"

She shrugged.

"Excuse me," Warrick continued, "but why –"

"Warrick," Grissom stopped him, suddenly coming back to life and drawing his two colleagues’ attention. "What did you say ‘bout Hodges?"

"He identified the matter found in the victim’s bathroom."

"Great. Let’s go."

Everyone got back to work, and Grissom and Sara didn’t have another chance to talk privately again that day.

***

A couple of days later Sara finished her tasks shortly before the end of the shift and decided she could go home. She informed Grissom who told her he would leave after a while.

At her locker, Sara automatically raised her hand to drop her badge where she always did, on the upper shelf. This time, though, she found something strange: a small box was there. Sara didn’t remember leaving it and so, curious, she left the badge and took the box. It was light, unwrapped and anonymous. She turned it in her hands and as she shook it next to her ear, something struck the inside of the box.  
Curious, Sara decided to open it: she took the top with her fingertips and slowly opened it up. The little box was empty except for a small piece of paper and underneath it, a key.

_"My home is small, but its windows open on a boundless world. - Confucio”_ read the paper. The handwriting was Grissom's.

In that moment the entire team came into the room, Greg first in line.

"Hey Sara!" the young man greeted her, "What do you have there, a present?" he asked her distractedly and in a good mood.

The question drew the attention of the others who were passing by in front of Sara.

"Uh! Somebody received a present!” Catherine echoed.

"So nice! I can’t remember the last time I got one..." Warrick commented, reaching his own locker.

"Ugh? The tickets for the match I gave you last week!" Nick reminded him.

"They weren’t a present. You owed me them because you lost a bet..." Warrick pointed out.

That tiff gave Sara the time to dilute her surprise and so, when Greg proposed his question again, she was ready to dispel everyone’s curiosity.

"It’s not a present," she answered, still feeling somewhat confused. "It’s just...the house key." she murmured lost in thoughts.

She closed the box and slipped it into her bag.

"Oh," Greg went, appearing a bit deluded. "I didn’t know you keep it in a box," he joked.

"It’s the spare one. Last night, I forgot to take mine before leaving home," she offhandedly explained.

Suddenly she felt crowded in the narrow space of the locker room. She took her jacket and bag and walked out.

She hadn't even walked ten steps out the locker room when she bumped into Grissom.

"Hey, so that’s true you’re going home," he commented ironically in seeing her ready to get out.

"Yeah,” Sara confirmed cheerfully, stopping. Something softened her glee, “I’m wondering _which_ home..." she murmured. Her face turned a bit more pinkish when she noticed that Grissom didn't understand. So she asked, "Is it possible that you have... _forgotten_ a key somewhere?"

Grissom’s sight mellowed, while moving in the direction of the locker room’s door at Sara’s back.

"I haven’t exactly _forgotten_ it," he stated, as his eyes turned back on Sara.

He would have wanted to ask her what she thought about it, but he could not find the words to use.

An outburst of laughter coming from the locker room made them turn and for a moment they had the opportunity to smile openly, however that light on their faces originated from elsewhere entirely. Then Sara turned to Grissom - her face was sunny.

"Let’s go home...shall we?" she asked.

Grissom didn’t have the time to reply because their colleagues came out the locker room clamoring like schoolchildren.

“Hey, you two. We’re going to Frank’s Diner, wanna join us?” Nick said.

Sara was about to refuse, but Grissom accepted right away with a happy expression. Sara felt forced to do the same, and the group said they would meet there.

“You can’t wait to go home, do you?” Sara commented, ready to take umbrage.

Grissom’s smile became wider. “We have something to celebrate, right?” he said lowering his voice as he passed by Sara heading for the locker room.

They met again at Frank’s and Sara had to agree with Grissom: that it really looked like a party. The morning was sunny and cool, their unaware colleagues were more loud-mouthed than usual, and the two lovers had fun together with them, every now and then throwing each other amused glances because of games only they knew and comprehended. They couldn’t have wished for a better celebration, in that quite special occasion: two solitary souls that joined together under one roof.

And when, a couple of hours later, they found themselves under that roof, things got a little emotional. Sara had been sleeping at Grissom's place several times each month for quite a long time, but that day, after leaving her bag and jacket on the sofa, she stood by the railing for a while, looking at the room as if with brand new eyes.

“You know the house, right?” Grissom rhetorically asked, approaching to her side.

She nodded.

“It won’t be much different than before,” he murmured, in a reassuring way.

Sara didn’t offer a comment, but turned to him, perplexed. After a moment, she turned to the room again.

Grissom reasoned whether that perplexity stemmed from what he had just said. _Yes_ , he eventually understood.

“What I said didn’t sound very nice, did it?” he reasoned out loud.

“At all, indeed,” Sara agreed, feeling grateful he had understood that.

She stared at him again, now with an obliging look.

“I had the impression you felt intimidated,” Grissom explained. "I just wanted to say something reassuring..."

“I’m fine,” Sara replied in one breath. By default.

She felt intimidated indeed, Grissom was right. And he seemed to understand that, despite what she had told him.

“I’ll look forward to coming home, now,” he affirmed.


End file.
